


Seasick

by EmeraldSands



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this for me but y'all can read it if you want, Seasickness, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump, Whumptober 2020, is this RespectShipping? It's up to interpretation, not too graphic though I'm emetophobic, uhh what other tags do I need?, underage whumpee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSands/pseuds/EmeraldSands
Summary: Drew suffers a bout of seasickness, but for once he doesn't suffer through it on his own. (For Whumptober day 6, prompt: "get it out.")
Relationships: Satoshi | Ash Ketchum & Shuu | Drew, slight Ash/Drew
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957423
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Seasick

**Author's Note:**

> I've got two Whumptober prompt fills for today! Both super short and written in a hurry, but they sure do exist.
> 
> I normally wouldn't use both relationship tags, but this one's really up to interpretation--there's a fair bit of ambiguity in this, really.

Drew hated boat travel. He had hoped coming above deck for some fresh air might help ease his nausea or at least his pounding headache, but that wasn’t working out—it never did, and he didn’t know why he kept on trying. At least the sea spray was keeping him cool while he vomited over the railing.

Just when he thought his situation couldn’t get much worse, a vaguely familiar voice said, “Drew?”

He risked a look over his shoulder and was met by a boy with warm brown eyes, a cap over unruly black hair, and a pikachu on his shoulder. One of May’s friends. “Oh, it’s you.”

“You always say that when you see me,” May’s friend said with a slight frown. “I’m starting to think you don’t know my name. It’s Ash.”

“Well, Ash,” Drew said curtly, “I’m a little busy at the moment, in case you couldn’t—” he had to break off as the boat lurched and a fresh surge of nausea made him lean over the railing once more.

“Whoa, you okay?” Ash was beside Drew in an instant, resting a warm hand on his back.

He gave Ash a sidelong glance. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Not really,” Ash conceded. “Can I do anything to help?”

“No.” Drew hated being seen like this—so weak and undignified, the opposite of how he tried so hard to present himself. “Please, just… let me be.”

“But you’re sick—”

“Just seasick.” Drew fought his nausea, which would’ve been much easier to do if he wasn’t also trying to argue. “It’s nothing I haven’t handled by myself before.”

He choked on the last word and vomited again. Ash’s hand still hadn’t left his back, and started rubbing in comforting circles—or what should’ve been comforting, but only had him burning with shame that this mess had a witness.

“Get it out, get it out.” Ash's voice was gentler than Drew had ever heard him sound. “Hey. This isn’t nothing, no matter how used to it you are. I’m not gonna let you deal with it by yourself.”

Drew got brave enough to raise his head, swiftly wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and looked at Ash. Nothing in that earnest face, those big brown eyes, showed any sign of judgment—only concern and sympathy. He gave Drew a gentle smile and something in Drew didn’t exactly melt, but softened.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”

Drew answered with a tired nod. His throat felt raw, and he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Ash took off, a boy with a mission. Drew slumped against the railing and let his eyes close. The pressure building behind his eyes was killing him—was that the headache or tears?

No. He refused to humiliate himself further by crying. He hadn’t cried in months—not since the last time Roselia was badly hurt in a battle—he was _not_ about to start crying now.

As he was taking deep, shaky breaths, trying to pull himself together, he heard footsteps—Ash had come back. He looked up and Ash, with another soft smile, handed him a water bottle. It was already opened, even, like he’d known to spare Drew the embarrassment of struggling with it. “Little sips, okay?”

Drew complied. As pathetic as he felt, he was beginning to feel a tiny bit better. “Ash?” he tried, voice hoarse and shaky. “… Thanks.”

Ash grinned. “Don’t mention it.”


End file.
